Anecdotes of a Lost Father: As Told By Timon
by ZooKeeperAbigail
Summary: Before he left his colony, before he found his best friend, and before he helped the future king save the Pridelands, Timon had a dad. One night while stargazing, Pumbaa asks Timon why his father is absent in his life, flooding Timon with memories he once drowned with Hakuna Matata. Now reminded of what he once had, Timon is forced to tell stories of his father.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! So, I'm not used to this fandom, although I've watched the Lion King movies my whole life. I'm kind of lofting about, dipping my toes in the water. Don't mind me. **

**This was inspired by the deleted scenes of The Lion King 1 1/2. Specifically, the ones involving Timon's dad. If you know, you know. **

**Also, sorry for the short beginning. I plan on making the next few chapters longer. **

* * *

_**Chapter One**_

The fireflies were exceptionally bright that night, casting their hypnotizing glow across all the Serengeti. From the Pridelands, across the desert, even above their oasis haven they had discovered a few short years ago. Timon had never seen anything like it. He admired how not a single cloud tainted the endless sky. It was a scene worth beholding.

The small meerkat roosted against the grass in his usual spot beside his best friend in the world, Pumbaa, a warthog with a unique aroma. The two usually chatted while sky gazing, releasing a burp or two, maybe even a fart; they were especially comfortable with the other's bodily functions, it was something that made their friendship special…no matter how disgusting or rude others may think. But that night…the pair was speechless under the shining fireflies.

Their other pal, Simba—the _king_—once told them that the fireflies were actually the great kings of the past, watching them, guiding them. Timon thought it was a load of hogwash. There were no king meerkats, no king warthogs. Prey would never be royalty; there was no one watching over the little guys. He continued to believe that they were fireflies, and that was that. It was very rare that someone could change his mind.

The meerkat let out a restful sigh, scratching his stomach with a small smile tugging at his lips. Life wasn't as great as it was when they had Simba around, but it was still going alright for him and his swine friend. Timon's relatives and whole colony moved into the oasis with him, so he had that going for him. They no longer lived in fear of predators, no longer had to dig tunnels and hide. Also, Simba was the king now. Life was perfect…maybe _too_ perfect.

Suddenly he felt that small smile faltering into a frown. What had he to frown about? Something was missing. But what?

"Oh, _there_ you boys are!" a familiar voice called from the hill.

Timon sat up, noticing his mother making her way over. "Oy."

"Oh, hi, Timon's mom," Pumbaa greeted sheepishly.

She was a short and stout meerkat, definitely distinct from the rest of the colony. Her hair, like Timon's, was fiery red. "What are you boys doing out so late? Timmy, you'll be so cranky tomorrow if you stay up any later," his mother said worriedly.

"Ma!" Timon wined. "We're watching the fireflies."

Ma looked up at the sky, she didn't appear as hypnotized as the duo, only minorly impressed. "Yes, they sure are lovely," she said in—what Timon thought—a half-hearted tone. "But you really should be turning in soon."

Timon rested against the grass again, folding his arms behind his head and sighing. "Hakuna matata, Ma. We'll be fine, won't we, Pumbaa?"

Pumbaa wagged his tail and nodded his head. "Right!"

Ma's eyes darted between the two and then met the grass in dismay, Timon pretended not to notice. "Well then. I guess I really came up here to tell you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Ma," Timon said with a small smile.

His mother gave him that look, crossing her arms.

"What?"

"_And_?" she asked impatiently.

Timon felt a lump form in his throat along with heat filling his cheeks. "I love you," he said.

The elder meerkat finally smiled. "I love you too, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Timon's mom!" Pumbaa said cheerfully as the female started making her way down the hill.

"And goodnight to you, Pumbaa," she called sweetly.

The best friends nuzzled back into their original comfy spot, again absorbing the beautiful sight above them. Timon assumed they would go back to being silent, but Pumbaa opened his big mouth.

"Gee, Timon. Your mom sure it sweet," the pig admired.

"Yeah, sure. As sweet as jalapeno bug chili," Timon grumbled in response. He knew deep down in his stubborn heart that his mother really was the nicest meerkat in the colony, and perhaps the best mom in the world. But for some reason, he thought if he gave everyone the satisfaction of knowing he knew that, she would change. It was a complicated feeling.

"Oooh, Timon," Pumbaa said in a scolding tone, but did not finish.

The pair fell silent again, Timon gradually accepted it. Some days he loved chatting with Pumbaa, some days he wanted silence. He never knew what kind of day it was going to be. Right then, all he wanted to do was gaze at the stars and take in his thoughts. Suddenly, he grew drowsy, allowing himself to yawn. He stretched and slowly closed his eyes, finally feeling peaceful.

"Uh, Timon…?"

Pumbaa's voice made the meerkat flinch and open his eyes, feeling annoyed all over again. He knew Pumbaa meant no harm, though, so he replied, "yes?"

Pumbaa shifted comfortably in the grass. "Where is your dad?"

Timon's body suddenly went stiff. "Why are you asking?"

"Well, I've never heard you mention him, or your mom, or Uncle Max."

Timon fell speechless, he simply didn't know how to respond. Since leaving his colony and finding hakuna matata, his father never once crossed his mind, and that made him feel a twinge in his heart. How could he forget his own father? Ma would be so disappointed in him.

"Timon?" Pumbaa called, realizing his buddy had fallen speechless.

The meerkat sat up, suddenly feeling sick.

"Are you okay?" his friend pressed on.

"Listen, Pumbaa," Timon finally spoke, feeling his mouth growing dry, "I don't think I want to talk about it right now."

"Why not?" Pumbaa asked, nearly wining.

Timon clasped the fur surrounding his chest, feeling it might explode. "Because, buddy, I just don't feel like it."

"But, why?"

Timon's eyebrows furrowed. He stood up and jumped on top of the warthog's stomach and suddenly, yelled, "because maybe I miss him too much! Yeesh!"

"Oh…" Pumbaa said dumbly, his voice faltering.

"You know I don't do sentimental stuff like this, Pumbaa. It gives me the crawlies," Timon said, dramatically trembling to show the pig exactly what he meant.

"But I want to hear stories of your past; I love stories!" Pumbaa whined.

"What is it with you and wanting to know about my past? Oy," Timon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just _one_ story, Timon? Pleeeeaaase? Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please?!" Pumbaa begged, practically hopping up and down on his back, knocking his small friend back on the grass.

Timon groaned as he picked himself up. He brushed himself off, flashing his friend an annoyed look. "Pumbaa, Pumbaa, Pumbaa, I am many things: strong, brave, handsome…" he noticed he was digressing, and jumped to the point, "but what I am _not_ is a storyteller!"

"But maybe sharing stories about your father will cheer you up," Pumbaa suggested.

Timon stroked his chin, squinting his eyes. "I suppose maybe sharing stories about my father would cheer me up."

"Huh?" Pumbaa asked dumbly.

Timon leaped on top of his buddy's stomach again. "Alright, buddy, you win. _As always_," he muttered the last sentence in annoyance.

"Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy!" Pumbaa said excitedly, wagging his tail.

"But _pay attention_ because you're not going to hear these often," Timon warned.

"I'm ready!" Pumbaa cheered.

Timon stroked his chin thoughtfully once more, contemplating as he gazed at the fireflies.

"Now…where do I start?"


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

"Now…where do I start?" Timon pondered to himself, still perched on Pumbaa's stomach.

Pumbaa leaned forward. "Oooh, oooh! Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Timon placed his paw on Pumbaa's snout and pushed him back. "Quiet, Pumbaa, I'm thinking." After a second or so of more contemplating, Timon hopped off his buddy's stomach and nudged him. "I've got it. How about I start from the beginning?"

"Yay!" Pumbaa agreed, wagging his tail.

The warthog excitedly flopped over on his stomach and Timon snuggled his back against him, getting comfortable for the stories ahead.

"Lucky for you, my porcine pal, I have an excellent memory. My earliest memory was the first time I stepped out of my burrow…"

* * *

_"Digga tunnah, dig, digga tunnah…"_

_The words were always being sang in the distance, so close yet so far away from him and his mother's burrow. Timon never knew why he was hearing it; he was too young to understand…but little did he know that he would hate that song more than anything. _

_The pup had just woken up from a nap, uncovering his head from his mother's warm chest and releasing a yawn. His mother smiled and attempted to flatten his hair, but to no avail as the pup was ready to go and explore. _

_"Now, Timmy…hold still," she called, trying to contain her son. _

_The child ignored her, scurrying to the edge of their tunnel and standing on his hind legs, looking up at the ceiling. _

_"There's that song again, Ma. What does it mean?" The pup lowered his position and scratched the back of his ear curiously. _

_"The colony sings that song while they dig tunnels. It motivates them to finish and work hard. One day, you'll be singing it along with your relatives," his mother explained, sneaking up from behind and fixing his bed hair. She licked her paws and flattened it the best she could. _

_"Oh," Timon muttered thoughtfully. _

_Suddenly, the pair could hear scurrying footsteps above ground. Next, a set of claws dug a hole in the ceiling, shedding light into their little home. Timon shut his eyes tightly from the light, burrowing his head in his mother's chest. A fully-grown meerkat with dark hair and light fur poked his head in with a greeting smile. He hopped in and placed his paws on his hips. _

_"Dad!" Timon greeted with a smile. _

_The father stood strong and proud, the sunlight from the hole he created almost seemed to shine upon him like a spotlight. _

_His dad ruffled Timon's hair. "Hey, pup." _

_"Oooh, I just fixed his hair," Ma huffed. _

_The male looked at his mate, sighing. "So, is today the day?" _

_Timon perked up, looking up at his mother with excitement. Ma placed her paws on the young one's shoulders and smoothed down his fur. _

_"I-I don't know if he's ready still," she replied. _

_The male crossed his arms. "He's six weeks old now, it's past time he left the burrow," he said sternly. _

_"Yeah, Ma! Can I go, please?" Timon begged. _

_Ma let out a defeated sigh. "But with his size—"_

_"He'll be fine. I'll be with him the whole time. The other pups are out, it's his turn," Timon's father said as he put a protective paw around his son's shoulder. _

_Ma sighed again. Timon couldn't really tell, but it seemed as if she was close to crying. She'd been by the pup's side since birth, and she knew the time had come for him to be fully weaned off the nourishment she provided him. It was time for him to leave the burrow weeks ago, but she just wouldn't let him. After what had happened to the rest of her liter…and him being the runt, she was so scared to let him go then. But now, she was sure the time was right; it was just so hard to let him go. _

_Ma forced her tears back and grabbed Timon's paws with a small smile. Timon smiled back and gave her a reassuring nod. _

_"Have fun and be safe," she managed. _

* * *

_"Alright, Timon. Come on out," his father had encouraged from above ground. _

_The pup hesitantly poked his head out from underground, keeping his eyes shut tightly as he crawled out. The young meerkat could feel the sun's rays shining on his fur, a huge difference from the dark, cold underground he'd been cooped up in. All around him were different scents and sounds. He could smell dirt; he knew that scent for sure. The other scents were foreign to him yet. All around him sounded like commotion, it rang in tune with the movement of the ground beneath his feet. People seemed to be rushing around him, chattering inaudible sentences and phrases he couldn't comprehend all at once. _

_His father smiled down at the young one, asking, "Now, how are you supposed to see the world through the inside of your eyelids?" _

_"Um…" Timon attempted to come up with a witty response but couldn't. Instead, he answered, "It's too bright." _

_"Your eyes will adjust, pup. Now slowly open them," his father persuaded. _

_Tentatively, Timon opened his eyes. At first, his vision was taken up by a blurred and blinding light, but the longer he examined his surroundings, the quicker the light adjusted. His eyes still stung, though. _

_Squinting, the pup saw many meerkats before him. Some were appearing from underground, some were going back under. Some were carrying sticks and chattering hastily, eager to get back to work. In the far back, he noticed a gang of pups slightly bigger than he was, play fighting and laughing while an adult male kept close watch of them. _

_Suddenly, those strange smells became familiar. Every meerkat who passed him by had a distinct scent that followed them. Timon got down on all fours and smelled his surroundings. _

_"At a boy. What do you smell?" his father asked, crouching down and placing a paw on the pup's right shoulder. _

_Disappointed, Timon looked up at his father. "…dirt."_

_His dad chuckled, patting Timon's back. "Better get used to that, pup. Follow me." _

_Timon curiously followed his father, avoiding the busy workers that scurried around him while at the same time trying to listen to his father. _

_"You see, son, every meerkat has a place in their gang. Even you," his father explained with his arms folded behind his back. He paused to wave at a passerby who had tried to get his attention. _

_Timon was nearly pushed over by a bigger meerkat carrying a pile of sticks. He ran over to keep up with his dad. "Me?" he repeated._

_"Of course. Not yet, but one day we'll find what you're good at," his father said. _

_"What are you good at, Dad?" Timon asked. _

_Timon's father stopped and turned around to answer but was interrupted by a passing meerkat. The stranger threw an arm around his father's shoulder and leaned against him. _

_"Why, Kojo is the fastest digger in the whole colony!" the meerkat replied. He seemed to have heard Timon's question as he was by-passing. _

_Timon tweaked his head to the side at the sound of his father's name. It had just occurred to him that he hadn't heard it yet. Kojo smiled shyly and playfully shoved the stranger off him, who may have just been a friend of his. _

_"Get out of here, can't you see I'm trying to learn a pup here?" he asked. _

_The meerkat playfully shoved him back and scurried back to what he was doing. Kojo continued walking like it never happened, motioning Timon to follow. _

_"Are you really the fastest digger in the whole colony, Dad?" the pup asked in admiration. _

_Kojo wrapped his arm around Timon as they walked. "I wouldn't say the 'fastest', but I can sure dig a tunnel, which is most important." _

_"Why do we dig tunnels?" Timon asked. _

_"We dig to survive, son. We dig to hide, eat, and to keep you safe," his father answered, looking down at him almost sternly for a second. "These tunnels…they are our life's work. One day you'll learn just how important they are." _

_A quick thought flickered in the back of Timon's mind. Without thinking, he opened his mouth. "What if I don't want to dig tunnels, dad?" _

_Suddenly, all the meerkats above ground halted what they were doing. They turned to the young pup and gasped in unison. At the sound of the question, one meerkat tripped over a rock and threw his pile of sticks in the air. The sticks rained down and knocked several nearby meerkats on the head. Even the group of pups Timon saw playing earlier had stopped what they were doing to stare at him. _

_Kojo's eyes grew wide in embarrassment. Playing it off, he chuckled and slapped his son on the back. "Good one, Timon! Ha! We've got a jokester here, guys," he said. _

_Since his father seemed to be popular around the colony, the meerkats went along with it and nervously chuckled. Slowly, they continued their routine as if it never happened. _

_Timon's ears sank. "But, Dad, I wasn't telling a jo—" _

_Suddenly, Kojo placed a paw over the pup's mouth. "We'll talk about this later," he whispered lowly._

_"I didn't think it was funny." _

_Timon and Kojo looked ahead to find an elder meerkat on the short side, staring at the two with his arms crossed and a scowl that Timon figured was stuck on him like glue. He had dark hair that was turning grey as well as his fur. _

_"Uncle Max," Timon's dad greeted. "Don't worry, he's just a pup. He'll understand." _

_Uncle Max looked down at Timon, squinting his eyes with suspicion. "A normal pup with instincts wouldn't even ask," the elder said, somehow knowing it wasn't just a joke like his father had lied about. _

_Timon's ears drooped again. _

_"Give him a break, it's his first time out of the burrow. I'm going to be his mentor," Kojo defended. _

_"Then I'll expect great things from him," Uncle Max said, his scowl lifting only slightly. He continued to stare at Timon, making the young one grow nervous. "So, does the pup have a name or do I just have to whistle at him to get his attention?" _

_Kojo nudged Timon forward. "It's okay, tell your uncle your name."_

_"Timon," the pup squeaked. _

_"Well, Timon," Uncle Max said, placing his paws behind his back and stiffening. "Listen to your father and you'll be a fine addition to the gang." On that note, the elder walked away, watching the meerkats do their jobs and jumping in when his help was needed. _

_It was his sixth week of living and Timon already felt pressured. It seemed as if his future was planned out for him. He was destined to be a hard worker, or maybe even be a fast digger like his father. What if he didn't want to be a hard worker? This time the question didn't leave his mouth in fear it would cause another scene. _

_"Uncle Max must have made that scowl one too many times because it seems to be stuck on his face," Timon muttered under his breath. _

_"Ahem!" Kojo loudly cleared his throat so Uncle Max couldn't hear the comment and pushed Timon away from the commotion of the colony. _

_"Jokes aren't going to keep you alive around here, pup," Kojo said sternly. "Have some respect for your elders. Uncle Max has been around for a long time, he's your family." _

_"Okay, Dad," Timon was sick of the lecturing, so he decided to agree with his father for the sake of his sanity. Suddenly, the pup let a yawn. "What's next?" he asked._

_Kojo finally smiled warmly again. "It seems that you're tuckered out already, pup. Come on, let's go back to the burrow."_

_Timon yawned once more, feeling his muscles relaxing. "No, really, I can go on." _

_"There's plenty of time to teach you our way of life, sleepyhead." Kojo bent down and gently bit down on the scruff of his pup's neck. He carried him back to the burrow as little Timon drifted off to sleep, swaying side to side in the rhythm of his father's steps. _


End file.
